


The Road

by Picturemedrowning



Category: Professional Wrestling
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Minor Character Death, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-14
Updated: 2016-12-14
Packaged: 2018-09-08 14:53:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8849293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Picturemedrowning/pseuds/Picturemedrowning
Summary: Seth's half way through a solo road trip, when he meets someone.





	

The diner was just like every other Seth had ever been in except it was empty. But the food was greasy and the tables were clean and the coffee looked strong so nothing else really mattered. He raised a hand to the waitress and slid into a booth near the window.

Arizona, middle of July. The earth outside was bleached and cracked and baked dry by the sun. Crickets buzzed and lizards bathed in the shade and under rocks. The sky was an ocean of blue and it went on forever and Seth rubbed his eyes, wiped sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand.

The waitress came over and took his order. Burger and fries and the biggest Coke they had. He checked his phone. Five hours to kill and barely half a battery. He was no mechanic but he thought something that took that long to fix on a car he rented three days ago couldn’t be good news.

His food arrived nine minutes later and tasted exactly how it looked. He drank after he’d eaten, slowly, stirring ice cubes around the glass with his straw, staring without really seeing at the arid landscape and thinking maybe this solo road trip thing had been a mistake. What had at first felt exciting and courageous, what had made him take two weeks out of work and empty his savings into the hands of motel owners and fast food diners in the middle of fucking nowhere, now seemed like the worst plan ever. But he had eleven days left and if he couldn’t stand to be left alone with himself for five measly hours, he was definitely fucked. His reverie was interrupted by the rumbling growl of a car approaching the lot.

An old black Dodge Charger. It swung in wide and slow and sunlight streaked off the alloys and flashed harshly in Seth’s eyes. It rolled to a stop. A guy got out, spat in the dirt and slammed the door shut behind him. Seth heard it creak from inside. The guy had a baseball cap and dirty jeans. Black t-shirt with a pack of cigarettes tucked into the rolled sleeve like a greaser from the 50’s.

Seth looked away when he came through the door. But he heard his voice. ‘Hey sugar, table for one. Unless you wanna join me?’

The waitress laughed and said ‘Keep dreaming sweet cheeks.’

‘You’re killin me.’ 

Seth didn’t look up when the guy passed. He smelt like car oil and smoke and cologne and Seth didn’t know why he was noticing.

Seth’s plate got cleared away and he ordered cherry pie and ice cream just to have something to do. Time was dragging like the world was stuck in quicksand. Four and a half hours to go before he had to walk two miles in stinking heat back to the garage to pick up his ride.

Baseball cap guy was sitting three tables over, near the bar. He was halfway through his food when he scraped his chair back and Seth heard his boots on the linoleum as he walked to the door of the men’s room.

He scrubbed a hand over his face again. Peeled the elastic band off his wrist and scraped his hair back in a bun. It felt dirty and gross and god, he wanted a shower. Four hours and twenty minutes left. He slumped back in his seat and stared dully outside again. That Dodge was one hell of a car. 1969. Like something from a movie. Sleek and fierce and noisy as shit, arrogant and unmistakable. It made Seth’s rental seem like something a middle aged suburban couple planning a family would buy. Maybe he should’ve picked something a little more badass. Maybe a Mustang. Maybe something that didn’t emit burning smells and smoke from under the hood and then fucking break down-

‘You like cars?’

Seth’s head whipped round so fast his neck cracked. The guy in the baseball cap was standing a few feet behind him, staring out the window. The desert was bright in his eyes.

‘She’s beautiful, man.’

The guy shrugged. Turned back to his seat and eyed his wrecked plate of food like he didn’t remember eating it.

Seth shifted and arched his back a little and listened to the ceiling fan whirring above and the radio crackling faintly away in the kitchen. He chewed the end of his straw. Squeezed and rolled it between his finger and thumb. It was so quiet.

He looked back at the guy who was mopping ketchup off his plate with fries and shoveling them into his mouth four at a time. Side-on his profile was classic. Straight nose and square jaw. His hair curled and flicked out under his cap, sun-bleached and golden. He had a deep even tan and his hands were covered in scratches. A manual worker. Seth had a weird feeling. Like a creeping familiarity that made him want to talk to this guy, almost that he knew him somehow, maybe seen him before. But maybe not. He’d probably remember a face like that.

‘You want something?’ Mouth full of food.

‘Nuh, just. This is weird but do I know you?’

The guy shrugged again. ‘I don’t know, do you?’ his voice was low and rough like the engine of his car.

‘I mean, have we met somewhere before?’

‘That’s an awful pick-up line.’

Seth stayed quiet. The guy chewed, looked over at him. Leant on the table with his elbow, smirking a little. Stared a few seconds and then, ‘Nah.’ He turned back to his plate. ‘I’d remember a face like that.’

Seth couldn’t think of anything to say and the pick-up thing was niggling at him but it was too late now. His pie and ice cream arrived and he didn’t really want it but he picked up a spoon and dug in before anything else dumb could come out of his mouth. It didn’t last very long. ‘I’m sorry, what did you mean?’

‘Didn’t mean anything.’ The guy leant back in his seat and motioned at Seth. ‘You have a rememberable face. If that’s even a word.’

Seth swallowed. ‘Memorable.’

‘Uh?’

‘Memorable is a word. The word, I mean.’ Something was getting him flustered and he had not the faintest idea why.

‘You gonna eat that?’

The guy was talking about the ice cream dripping and melting slowly off the spoon held half way to Seth’s mouth. Before he had a chance to even breathe the guy was out of his seat and walking over. He was taller than Seth thought, probably taller than Seth in general. He slid in to the booth and hooked his mouth in a smile and his eyes were _so_ _fucking_ _blue_. He leant forward and wiped his finger, caked in car oil stains, right through the whipped cream on top of the pie and sucked it into his mouth and all Seth could think to say was, ‘Didn’t your mother teach you its bad manners to eat with your hands?’

This guy looked like bad-manners was his middle name, but he snorted a soft laugh and said ‘She walked out when I was three. So no, she didn’t. You mind?’

Seth blinked stupidly and shook his head and the guy broke off a piece of crust, dunked it in ice cream and ate it.

‘Are you sure I don’t know you?’ Seth asked. There was definitely something about him.

‘Do you know my name?’

‘No,' 

‘Okay so guess.’

‘What?’ His food was disappearing at an alarming rate and this guy had eyelashes for days.

‘Jesus are you deaf? Guess my name.’

Seth pushed his plate across the table in defeat and sat back. ‘I don’t know. John?’ He offered, dryly. 

‘Wrong-o.’

‘Daniel.’

‘Nuh-uh.’

‘Zack.’

‘Nope.’

Seth sighed. ‘ _James_.’

‘You’re really bad at this.’

‘How the hell am I meant to get it right?’

‘Don’t be a bad loser.’

Seth smiled, just a little. Whatever this was, it was better than sitting alone staring at the sky. ‘Alright. If I guess it though, you gotta give me a ride in your car.’

‘Deal.’

‘Mark.’

He left the spoon in his mouth, like he had paused to think. Turned it, sucked it slowly with a smirk. ‘Nah.’

Seth was struggling to think of names to fit a tall, bronzed, twenty-something guy with a vintage muscle car. ‘Jack.’

The guy shook his head. Stopped eating and pulled his baseball cap off. Pushed a hand through his hair, squinting and scowling like he felt as gross and sweaty as Seth did. Loose dark blonde curls, messy as hell.

‘Dean.’

He stopped, looked at Seth from under his scruffy fringe. ‘Bingo.’

‘You’re shitting me.’

 He relaxed, rolled his shoulders and leaned back like Seth. Mirroring him. ‘Guess you’re not as bad at this as I thought.’

 'Okay now your turn.’

He smiled and his eyes lit up, Seth would never say that about anyone, he didn’t even think it was a thing that actually happened but this guy – Dean – his eyes _brightened_ and he leant forward again, tapped fingers on his forearm like he couldn’t stand to be still for one second –

‘Seth.’

‘ _Fuck_ you. What?!’

He was still smiling, like a kid pleased with himself, smug and amused at how smart he was. There were _dimples_ , the man had-

‘Sorry I didn't mean - how on god’s green earth did you guess that?’

‘Alright, alright,’ Dean relaxed again. Game over. ‘I work at the garage. I saw your car, saw your name. You look like the type to rent a Volvo.’

‘Its all they had left, okay.’

‘I’m not judgin’.’

‘Anyway you owe me a ride. You can take me back to the shop if you want.’

Dean nodded mutely, looked out the window again. It was the only thing to look at that wasn’t Seth’s face.

‘…I mean, I can walk, or-’

‘Nah, nah. Its fine.’

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this in my drafts for a long time, and I thought I'd post it. If there's interest I'll continue! But if not then, hey, they had a nice meeting :)


End file.
